Seo-Jun Park's last conscious memory was falling asleep face-down on a tattered textbook titled, Advanced Reinforced Concrete Design: Load-Bearing Structures. His current reality was a throbbing headache, a stale taste in his mouth, and a desperate need to know where the hell he was.
He was lying on a cold, stone floor. The smell was a repulsive mix of damp rot, cheap wine, and unwashed wool. His body felt heavy and bloated, entirely wrong, and his clothes—a ridiculously velvet tunic and tights that screamed "medieval clown"—were definitely not his work jeans.
This is it, he thought, shoving himself up on an elbow. The famous Isekai truck-kun must have hit me. But instead of the handsome, overpowered hero, I got the body of the slob.
His eyes focused on the grimy, cracked ceiling above him. As a reflex, his brain went into assessment mode, the same way it always did when looking at a potentially compromised structure.
Suddenly, a crisp, translucent blue interface snapped into existence right in front of his face.
MAOI (Mechanical Appraisal & Optimization Interface) Online.
New User Registered: Elias Thorne (Hostile Environment Adaptation Protocol Activated)
[Appraisal & Analysis] Initiated.
[STRUCTURE: Baron's Chamber, Barony of Ironspur]Efficiency Rating: 18% (Sub-Optimal) Critical Flaws: Inadequate cross-ventilation, load-bearing stone compromised by moisture intrusion, insulation rating: 0.1 (Poor), Unsanitary Conditions: Critical.Optimization Suggestion: Complete tear-down and structural redesign.
"Oh, sweet heaven," Elias muttered, staring at the metrics. "This place is a condemned building."
He scrambled to his feet, using a nearby antique oak chair for balance. The chair's information immediately flashed in his vision:
[Object: Decorative Seat. Efficiency: 35% (Poor Ergonomics, Non-Standard Assembly, Weight-Bearing Stress Fracture.)]
Ignoring the holographic blueprints now filling his sight, he stumbled to the only mirror—a silver plate so tarnished it looked like a dinner tray. The man staring back was a soft, pale noble with dark hair, beady eyes, and an expression that had clearly perfected the scowl of a demanding drunkard. He was utterly unlike the protagonist of the novel he'd been reading, Knight of Blood and Iron. He was Baron Elias Thorne, the lazy, alcoholic side character destined to lose the family fortune and die off-page.
A violent surge of the original Elias's memories hit him: the crippling financial ledgers, the endless demands of moneylenders, and the looming deadline imposed by Duke Vesper.
Elias didn't care about honor, destiny, or saving the world. He only cared about one thing: the mountain of debt.
His System, sensing his stress, helpfully offered a single, terrible notification:
Projected Bankruptcy Event: 90 Days.
Status Title: [Estate Developer: Scum Tier 1 (Greed)]
Elias's mouth curved into a desperate, feral snarl.
"Ninety days?" he hissed. "I'm a damn engineer, not a knight! They want to bankrupt me? Fine. I'll make so much money the gold itself will break their pathetic little economy."
He turned back to the window. His eyes narrowed, and he focused all his practical, avaricious energy.
Target: Window Opening Mechanism. Optimization Requested: Minimal Man-Hour Operation.
The MAOI flickered, and a complex, color-coded diagram appeared over the window. It displayed detailed instructions for building a simple spring-loaded, crank-and-pulley system that would allow him to open the window with a simple twist from his bedside.
"Beautiful," Elias whispered, a genuine, terrifying smile cracking his face. "A twenty-minute build for a lifetime of zero effort. This is how you run an estate. Efficiency above all."
His manic planning was interrupted by the door to his chamber flying inward with a loud CRACK, revealing a man who looked like he was carved from marble. Tall, handsome, immaculate in shining silver armor, and with an expression of stoic, enduring pain.
It was Sir Kaelen, the Thorne Family's sworn protector and the true protagonist of the original novel.
Kaelen looked at Elias, then at the floating, invisible-to-him blueprints surrounding the window, and finally at the disgusting smile on his Baron's face.
(Sir Kaelen's Internal Monologue):"Just as I feared. The liquor has finally driven him mad. Now he smiles at the wall, murmuring about... 'minimal man-hours.' I am sworn to protect this.Scum Tier 1 Nobleuntil my dying breath. This is my burden."
"My Lord," Kaelen said, his voice a low, level rumble of despair. "The moneylenders are at the gate. And they have brought axes."
Elias, still admiring his pulley diagram, waved a dismissive hand. "Axes? How horribly inefficient. Tell them to wait. I can't negotiate without proper gearing."
Elias finally emerged, swaggering slightly in his velvet travesty of clothing, with Kaelen stiffly following him. At the crumbling front gate, two massive moneylenders waited alongside Clerk Rellis, a representative from Duke Vesper's treasury.
Rellis, a man in slightly too-tight silks, flourished a scroll. "Baron Thorne, your debt has matured. The Duke is generous—we only require a partial forfeiture of assets to settle the balance. We'll begin with the front gate, as a symbolic gesture."
The two moneylenders hefted their axes with predatory grins.
Elias, however, wasn't looking at the axes. He was staring at the ground just beneath the gate hinges.
MAOI Scan: [Object: Ground Hinge Support] Critical Flaw: Rusting Fasteners (Non-Structural.)
"You can take the gate," Elias announced, his voice suddenly sharp and confident, "But I need to remind you of the Baronial Edict of 387 A.L., which grants the owner of the land the right to maintain all necessary support structures."
The Duke's clerk blinked. "Support structures? That's ancient history. Those are just two rusted scrap iron rods."
"They are historical, specialized metal supports that sit on my property line," Elias retorted, stepping forward with the scumbag snarl back in place. "If you cause any damage whatsoever to these artifacts—which maintain the essential load-bearing integrity of the surrounding wall—I will sue the Duke's office for gross negligence and violate the Edict. The penalty for that is enough to pay my debt three times over."
Kaelen's jaw nearly dropped. (Internal Monologue): "Three times over? He is lying! The penalty is a single goat! And those rods were thrown there by the old gardener three years ago! Yet... the confidence! It's utterly repulsive!"
Clerk Rellis paled. Legal fees and historical edicts were far more dangerous than simple debt collection. "This is outrageous! We are here for the gate!"
"Then take it," Elias shrugged, "But if my wall collapses due to your shoddy, inefficient demolition work, you will be paying for the reconstruction of the entire castle wing."
The threat of bureaucratic nightmare worked better than any magical shield. The moneylenders lowered their axes.
"Fine," Rellis hissed, rolling up the scroll. "The debt will be handled differently. The Duke is more concerned with productivity. The Ironspur Mine has consistently failed to meet quality metrics. You have ninety days to deliver a triple-size shipment of high-grade steel to the Royal Foundry, or your mining lease is forfeit. That is the Duke's final word."
Rellis stormed off, leaving Elias staring at the steep, weed-choked road leading up to the estate.
Elias's face lost its smugness and took on an expression of cold fury. He didn't just inherit debt; he inherited a hostile corporate takeover. He looked at his imposing, silent knight, Sir Kaelen.
"Kaelen," Elias said, his voice low and intense. "Forget the law. We need to make this mine profitable. Immediately. We start by fixing the source of all our problems: the horrendous lack of basic infrastructure."
"My Lord," Kaelen said, his eyes wide. "We are knights! We have swords, spells, and honor! We are facing a powerful Duke! We should be raising an army!"
Elias turned, his face splitting into a truly manic, self-serving smile.
"An army can be beaten, Kaelen," he sneered. "But a 400% return on investment is an absolute victory. Now move! I need three things: every man who can hold a shovel, every piece of charcoal and pig iron you can find, and I need you to lead a work crew to the river and secure me a few hundred meters of straight timber. We're building a pump. Time is money, and I need a frictionless plane built by dawn!"